


Relearning

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brucenat - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Depression, Internalized Homophobia, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Oblivious Steve, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve, Sort of unrequited love?, Weird Relationship Dynamics, because I like to stick to canon even if I have to put effort into explaining it, but with plenty of communication, so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky doesn't understand how to want. Steve just wants Bucky to get better. They struggle, then adjust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working! Instead, here's a Stucky fic. Haaaaa. I've lost control of my life.
> 
> Tags will be updated as I go.

It’s been approximately two weeks since Steve and Tony’s cataclysmic fight. Tony hasn’t spoken one word to him since they finally decided to call it a day, and Steve, funny enough, misses him. Maybe he doesn’t have quite the history with Tony as he does with Bucky, but funnily enough saving the world twice works as a great fast forward. 

Of course, Bucky’s not the best of company at the moment. His best company, and he’s grateful for it, is Sam. Sam, who’s been spending every minute of his day trying to rebuild Steve’s life with him so that Bucky can fit in it.

They’ve stripped the apartment of anything breakable or dangerous. Bucky, he knows, wants to help, but he’s alternating between fits of bewildered rage and fits of twitchy panic, and so far the biggest help he’s been is carrying a shelf into the stairwell, right before freezing and glowering at it as if it insulted him personally.

Steve takes some liberties with the assassin proofing. The television is still in the living room, despite being easily shattered. Steve likes watching new movies. It says more than people think about the world. The kitchen knives are in the bottom drawer, much to the dismay of both Sam and Bucky. Natasha, strangely, just gives a small shrug. Steve figures it’s worth the risk – he’s got a whole array of new cooking methods to try and he’s not giving it up because his best friend might murder him in his sleep. 

To be honest, he might just be curious if Bucky would try. Right now, Bucky is slumped over on the sofa, shivering. Steve tosses a blanket over him, standing far enough away not to spook him. Bucky startles anyway, hands fisting in the blanket suspiciously.

He has certainly gotten a great deal more emotional lately, and Steve isn’t sure what he thinks about it. When they were fighting with Tony, Bucky was at his side. Sure, he looked dead inside, but at least he was… well, he was there. Now he was gone again, in a whirlwind of temper tantrums and panic attacks.

When he thinks about it, he knows he wants Bucky to be... well… Bucky, and not an emotionless, conditioned robot, but this isn’t Bucky. This is his shattered remains, and when he hurts, Steve hurts along with him.

Now Sam’s gone too. It was a mutual decision, because they both know Steve can’t hide behind Sam forever, but Steve feels like the only decision he wants to make is to make Bucky better again – and that’s not one of the options given to him. Everything else just feels like going through the motions. It’s like waking up in an unfamiliar world again. It’s like the day he lost Bucky again, just a raw numbness that makes everything he does feel like a bizarre dream.

He finds himself in the kitchen, chopping away at some carrots. He’s making a stew, one with all the spices he couldn’t have ever afforded back then, with some premium beef broth and good, fresh meat.

He prepares it all, sets it in to cook, and then returns to the living room. “You hungry?” he asks Bucky.

Bucky looks startled, then angry. “Who cares?” he snarls.

Steve deflates. He hates that it’s been two weeks and Bucky still doesn’t understand why he’s being fed regularly. He hates Hydra for it, and he’s angry at Bucky for it too, though he doesn’t want to be.

“I do,” he says, a little too aggressively.

Bucky flinches, then goes scowls even harder. “Just gimme whatever you want to give me.”

“Fine. I’ll let you know when the stew is done. You can eat if you want to eat.”

He turns and stomps out. Bucky looks confused, and Steve feels childish for being upset with him. He almost calls Sam to come back, but he knows Sam won’t bring the old Bucky with him.

When the stew is done, he tells Bucky, but Bucky doesn’t come into the kitchen until after he’s left. After a little while, Steve hears a crash. He bounds back into the kitchen, finds Bucky with his hands around his head and the bowl he’d left for him shattered on the tiles. Steve ignores the bowl, gently reaches out for Bucky out of reflex. “You alright, Buck?” he asks, but Bucky just slaps his hand away and goes back to sitting motionless, head covered almost protectively.

Steve sighs, cleans up the remains of the bowl, and turns to leave. “Night, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer.

-X-

Later that night, Steve wakes up to Bucky screaming in the other bedroom. He trudges over, yanks Bucky’s foot a little. Bucky jack-knifes up, propelling himself into the corner, looking terrified.

“You were having a nightmare, Buck,” Steve explains, exhausted.

Bucky stares at him, frozen.

“You can always watch TV in the living room if you’re scared to sleep,” Steve adds. Bucky is trembling slightly, so he slips in a soft, “Ok?”

Bucky manages a nod.

“Try to sleep, Buck.” He suspects he might be using Bucky’s name more often, just to see him react. Or maybe to remind him of it. 

He waits a moment for a reply, and when he doesn’t get one, he returns to his room, sparkling with pain, and proceeds to sleep until noon.

Bucky’s on the couch, fast asleep, an episode of Batman cartoons still playing.

-X-

They’ve been living alone for another two weeks when Bucky shuffles into the kitchen before dinner. “Can I help?” he asks, meek. His long hair drifts into his face, making him long oddly endearing. “I won’t break anything.”

Steve was just cutting onions, and without thinking, he hands Bucky the knife while he thinks of another task to do himself. Bucky takes it, but that’s about as far as he gets, standing there, knife held out in front of himself like it’s going to bite him, eyes wide. 

“Sorry,” Steve says, slipping the knife out of his hand. “Here,” he says, handing him a loaf of bread instead. “Make me some bread crumbs instead, alright?”

Bucky just gets to it, shaking, sniffling slightly. That night Steve can hear him up all night, watching some stupid sitcom.

-X-

Another two weeks in, and the sitcoms stop working. Bucky’s too tired to stay awake, but still too frightened to sleep properly. Steve finds him curled up in the middle of the day, taking a fitful nap, whimpering quietly.

“Hey,” he says, as Bucky struggles to wake up. “Do you need me to talk to Sam? Maybe… get you something to help you sleep better?”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. 

“I know it must be a scary thought to get drugged to sleep, Buck, but you’ve gotta sleep somehow.”

“I know,” he rasps. “I can do it, I promise.”

“I just want you to be ok, Buck,” he says softly, because Bucky’s looking at him like he’s in trouble, and he’s scared what the punishment’s going to be.

“I know,” Bucky says again, shifting to looking lost. “I’m sorry.”

Steve just looks at him, trying to quell the pain in his heart.

-X-

It’s about three days later when Bucky wakes him up by tugging on his foot, like he did with Bucky.

“What’s wrong? You alright?”

Bucky doesn’t reply at first, and for a moment Steve wonders if he’s here to kill him. But then he realizes the foot tug was positively timid, and Bucky’s standing there wrapped in his blanket.

“We, uh… we used to share beds, right?” Bucky whispers quietly.

“Yeah. Sometimes. To stay warm, mostly.”

“Right. Well. Well I… I can’t really get warm, so… So’s that… still…”

They stare at each other, equally unsure. Steve manages to unfreeze himself first. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. Uh… you…” The bed is fairly small, he wants to say, and Bucky hasn’t seemed to comfortable with touching. “Just make yourself comfortable.”

Bucky collapses into bed next to him, turning his back and curling into his blanket. After a while, Steve does the same.

Bucky doesn’t make another noise that night, and he looks less tired the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

After about a week of Bucky being almost calm, if slightly jumpy, he suddenly starts being a pain. Not causing Steve pain, or in pain, just… a pain. In the ass. If they’d been back in the old days, Steve would have probably slapped him upside the head. Instead, he just grits his teeth and bears it.

After three days, he calls Sam, who doesn’t know what’s going on either. He volunteers to come over and help, but Steve finds himself wanting to deal with this challenge alone. 

It’s not like Bucky’s being dangerous. He’s just being petulant, and acting like a toddler. In fact, he feels more like Bucky this week than earlier, constantly giving Steve teasing looks, as though he’s trying to goad him into something.

Steve tries to prod him into being less of an ass, but the urge to threaten to put him over his knee gets stronger each day. Still, he knows it wouldn’t be a light joke anymore, not like it used to be. 

On the fifth day, Bucky goes ahead and pushes him out of bed in the middle of the night, and he almost looses it. He glares down at Bucky, who juts out his chin and silently dares him to do something. There’s something hiding in that look, though, that Steve doesn’t like, so he just shakes his head and goes to sleep on the couch.

The next day, Bucky looks terrible. Steve makes him breakfast, sets it down in front of him. Bucky doesn’t even look at it, just swipes the whole thing off the table. This time he gives Steve a desperate look, breathing suddenly going ragged. 

Steve softens, frustration suddenly dissipating. “Buck, come on. What is this?” he says, keeping his voice gentle.

Bucky stands quickly, face flitting back and forth between anger and fear. He looks, for a moment, as though he wanted to say something, but instead he runs from the room.  
The next day, Fury asks them to take care of a small Hydra base. Steve doesn’t want to go. The dishes aren’t done, the laundry isn’t done, Bucky keeps picking at the sofa cushions, and he’d just found a good movie on Netflix he wanted to watch. Still, he pulls himself together and does it anyway. He knows it’s a long shot, but he asks Bucky to do the dishes. That way maybe he can eat after getting home.

He and Tony don’t speak, Natasha still looks cross about Bruce not showing up, and Clint does his best to not get involved in any drama, while still talking about all the drama. Steve ends up talking to Thor the whole mission – it seems Asgard has been having an infestation of some creature whose name Steve can’t pronounce. Still, Thor is as cheery as ever, as though this awkward silence with his teammates is a lovely break from his responsibilities.

Steve trudges home, exhausted, at eleven in the evening. Bucky’s on the couch, knees up to his chest, and his eyes track Steve as he goes into the kitchen. The dishes aren’t done.

Steve’s not exactly surprised. But he’s tired and he knows Bucky’s doing this for a reaction, so he walks back into the living room, crosses his arms, and says, “Buck. I told you to do the dishes.”

“Yeah. So?” Bucky says.

“So, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Bucky doesn’t respond, just goes resistant again, just like after shoving him out of the bed. “Come on, Buck, you’ve been a pain in my ass for days now,” he snaps finally. He knows he’s going to regret it, but he just wants to know.

“What are you going to do about it?” Bucky growls.

Steve sighs, massaging the back of his neck. “Nothing, Buck, I just want to know what your problem is!”

Bucky lets and animalistic scream, and kicks him in the shin. It’s a soft kick, doesn’t even hurt, and maybe that’s what shocks Steve the most. He stares at Bucky, who, to his horror, begins to quiver and then bursts into tears.

“Buck…” he croaks.

Bucky shakes his head and slides off the couch to kneel at Steve’s feet, shaking. Steve wants to pull away, but he doesn’t want Bucky to think he’s angry at him. 

“I don’t… I don’t get it,” Bucky wheezes, wet sobs rattling him. “I’ve been so… so terrible. I haven’t done anything you asked me to do, I… I broke things, I… I didn’t let you sleep, I…” He swipes at his nose, whimpering a little. “And you won’t do anything and I… I don’t know when it’s coming and I…”

“When what’s coming?” Steve asks, a terrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Punishment,” Bucky grinds out, like it’s obvious.

“Bucky,” Steve says sharply, and Bucky almost flattens himself right to the floor in fear. “There’s not going to be any punishment.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Bucky gasps.

“I’m not lying, Buck, I’m not going to punish you.” He squats down in front of Bucky, who keeps shaking his head.

“No. You’re just saving it up, and I… I’m not gonna see it coming, and…”

“Ok,” Steve says finally, letting his hand hover over Bucky’s shoulder. “Can I?” Bucky nods, though he flinches when Steve does rest his hand on his shoulder. “Listen. If it’s gonna make you feel better, we can do punishments. That way you won’t keep expecting them, alright?”

Bucky looks terrified, but he nods. “Please just get it over with.”

Steve thinks about it for a moment, then stands up. “Ok, Buck. Tell you what your punishment is.” Bucky nearly collapses, wracked in shivers, but Steve forces himself to remain strict. This is going to help Bucky. He grabs the phone, and the laptop from under the TV, and hands them both to Bucky, who blinks up at him, teary-eyed and confused. “You’ve gotta order take-out.”

“What?” Bucky says, thoroughly bewildered.

“You didn’t do the dishes, and I’m tired. Now I’m in no mood to cook and we ain’t got any food that we can eat without cooking. So now you’ve got to get take-out. Sound fair?”

“Yes?” it comes out as a question, and Steve feels a little bad about confusing Bucky like this. Still, he’s stopped crying, aside from a little sniffling. “But…”

“No buts, Buck. You wanted punishment, I gave you a fair punishment. Find a delivery place, and order some food.”

Bucky gapes at him a little longer, then finally nods, and pries open the laptop with shaking fingers. After a moment, he stops shaking completely, and looks about as calm as he has since he moved in.

For the first time in a long while, a little bit of hope flutters in Steve’s chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get to the conflict later. Life is stressful and I really just wanted more fluff. Who needs conflicted anyway? Poor Bucky.

Bucky… well… Bucky’s still a pain in the ass the next week. He demands chores – then refuses to do them until there’s twice as much work in punishment. For the first few times he’s still edgy, frightened, as though he’s still waiting for a slap or… well… Steve doesn’t think about it too much.

Finally, after Bucky has been prodding and grumpy all day, he stomps off, draws a bath, and then stomps right back to drag Bucky into the bathroom by the collar. He tries to keep his grip light, so Bucky knows he has a way out. Bucky looks nervous, but doesn’t panic. He sits him down on the side of the bath, then fixes him with his best Captain look. “Don’t you come out until you’re in a better mood. If I hear one peep out of you, Buck…”

“Will it be an early bedtime?” Bucky asks slyly, and Steve almost giggles.

At the last moment, he pulls it together and fixes Bucky with the strictest face he’s ever managed. “No TV.”

“You wouldn’t,” Bucky teases.

“I would.”

Bucky grumbles, but starts pulling off his socks. Steve turns to leave, but Bucky catches his arm. “Hey. If I pull the curtain closed… would you stay? You know, tell me about the good ol’ days.” He says it a little bitterly, so Steve gives him a warm smile. 

“Sure, Buck.” He turns around to give Bucky his privacy, then sits on the toilet seat after Bucky has pulled the curtain closed.

“You say my name a lot. You tryin’ to remind me?” Bucky asks, and Steve hears him slosh down into the water. 

“Yeah,” Steve admits.

“It feels nice.”

“Yeah?” He can feel a growl of butterflies come to life in his stomach.

“Yeah. Felt… wrong. For a while. But then it… it started feeling really right, I guess.” Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just stays still. “I don’t know. I… don’t… I don’t think I’m the guy you knew back then. But… I guess… it feels nice to have the name fit.”

“You don’t have to be the same guy,” Steve murmurs. “I’m not exactly the little guy from Brooklyn anymore.”

“Who was too dumb to run away from a fight,” Bucky intones. Steve’s heart takes a running leap up his throat. “I’m not really the expert here, but… I think… yeah. You are.”

“Well,” Steve says, coughing quickly to clear his throat of some kind of sticky, pre-tear mess. “My point is I’ve come a long way, and… and I’m just glad you’re here. Whatever you’re like now.”

“See,” Bucky whispers, and Steve wants to see his face more than anything right now. “There you are. Still dumb.”

“Maybe,” Steve says. “But I did get a bunch of punches in to Hitler.”

There’s a long pause, then, “Sorry. I don’t remember that one. Did we attack Hitler?”

“No. Uh. Back… way back, when you were in the army and I’d just become Captain America, they used me for publicity. So I punched an actor dressed as Hitler. A lot.” Bucky snorts a little, so Steve adds, “In tights.” 

Bucky laughs, loud and honest, and Steve is almost dizzy with it. “God,” Bucky wheezes. “Is that where they got that stupid, bright uniform?”

“If I recall, you asked me to keep it.”

“Probably so I wouldn’t loose you!”

“Oh, really? I bet you just liked me in tights.”

They’re both laughing now, and Bucky doesn’t even dignify the last jab with an answer. “Ah, God. I think… I think I used to miss you a lot,” Bucky says after a while, still laughing a little. “Though I… don’t remember if it was in the war or… as… as an asset.” Suddenly, the air goes somber.

“I know what you mean. After I thought you died, I cried for days,” Steve says, though he’s not sure it’s really going to help the mood.

“I…” Bucky starts, sounding strained. “I think I had a picture. In my pocket.” 

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. He remembers carrying Peggy’s picture, but it doesn’t seem like the same thing. He’s not sure what it is. “I can get you a new one, if you think.”

“Can it be of you little? I don’t mind the change but… that’s what I want to remember.” The water sloshes a little. “At least I don’t think I minded the change.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Steve promises.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbles, barely audible anymore.

“It’s no big deal.” It is a big deal, somehow. Steve’s heart is thundering in his ears.

Neither of them can think of anything to say for a few beats.

“I think I’m ready to get out,” Bucky says finally.

“No more whining?”

“Not a peep.”

Steve smiles, and turns his back while Bucky gets dressed. They make dinner quietly, but the tension has seeped out of both of them – partly in a good way, partly just due to exhaustion.

After dinner, Steve sits down on the couch and starts sifting through Netflix. Bucky stands in the doorway for a little while, then timidly crawls onto the sofa beside Steve, gently resting his head on Steve’s thigh.

Steve can’t move for a moment. The most he’s dared to touch Bucky is his shoulder, and now here he is, halfway into Steve’s lap.

After a moment, his panic quells, and he reaches down very slowly to brush Bucky’s long hair from his face. Bucky sniffles a little, and Steve can see him tense slightly, but as Steve continues to stroke his hair, softly, carefully, he relaxes, closing his eyes.

“Do you mind?” he slurs, clearly half asleep.

“Well, I believe an early bedtime was brought up as punishment. I certainly hope you aren’t punishing yourself, Buck,” Steve says. It’s halfway a joke, halfway checking with Bucky that this is ok.

“No,” Bucky mumbles. “This is the most self-indulgent thing I’ve done in decades.” He’s quiet for a moment, and Steve lays his hand on his neck while he returns to browsing Netflix. Bucky whines quietly. “Please pet,” he manages, right before a gentle snore.

Steve grins, and puts on a movie before continuing to run his fingers through Bucky’s messy hair. “G’night, Buck.”

“Gnn,” Bucky manages.

Steve suddenly feels so happy he wants to sit here forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It's been a loooong two weeks. Hope you enjoy!

The next week, Bucky starts sleeping better. He celebrates by sleeping all the time. It’s sort of adorable, if bewildering. One day, around noon, he finds Bucky dozing off with his legs on the couch and his arm flung out over the bottom shelf of the TV cabinet.

He takes a long look at him, and then starts laughing. Bucky cracks an eye open and fixes him with the most withering glare he can manage while sprawled out on the floor in the sunny afternoon light.

“What are you doing?” Steve wheezes.

“Not sleeping,” Bucky grumbles.

“Yeah, but…” He gestures at vaguely at him.

“It’s our apartment,” Bucky says, scowling and pushing out his bottom lip. “I can sleep where I want.” 

Steve’s laugh tapers off, though it remains fluttering in his chest. “Oh,” he says gently. Bucky gives him the challenging look, as though daring him to argue. Steve knows by now that it’s the face he makes when he’s scared. “This is your way of marking your territory?”

Bucky just sulks at him, which Steve takes as an agreement.

“It’s very intimidating,” Steve says, grinning. “Anyone who might want to take up a spot here is sure gonna think twice when they find out the Winter Soldier’s been sleeping over it.”

Bucky sits up as fast as lightning, eyes wide. Steve notices, with a jolt, that it’s the first time he’s called Bucky the Winter Soldier to his face. Or to anyone, really.

“Buck,” he breathes, but Bucky cuts him off quickly.

“Don’t,” he says tersely. “Why bother?”

“I don’t think you’re…”

“What?” Bucky shouts. Steve flinches, and Bucky pulls in on himself in response. “You don’t think I’m the Winter Soldier?” he continues, a shade quieter, but still with a fair amount of fury.

“I don’t think of you as the Winter Soldier,” Steve corrects, automatically reaching for Bucky’s shoulder.

“I am the Winter Soldier!”

“You’re my friend,” Steve struggles to say.

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

Bucky twists his head away and looks down at his hands instead, flexing his metal fingers minutely. “Yeah, well,” he says, sounding as tired as Steve feels. “Maybe you just want to think that.”

“Maybe,” Steve admits.

Bucky shoots to his feet and storms into the bedroom. Steve decides not to follow him, opting instead to sit at the kitchen table and try to remember how to swallow properly.

After a while, he can’t take it anymore. He slips into the bedroom, where Bucky is huddled under a large pile of blankets. 

He sets his hand gently on Bucky’s shoulder. “Can I?” 

After a long pause, Bucky nods. The entire blanket bundle moves with him, and Steve finds himself smiling. He slips one arm around the mound and scratches gently at the small amount of Bucky’s hair that still managed to poke out of the burrito.

“Listen,” he whispers. “I really don’t care who you are, Buck. You’re my friend. I’m sorry I joked about… all this.”

Bucky rolls over, fighting to push his face out of the blankets. “I don’t know who I am. I don’t feel like Bucky Barnes, but I don’t feel like the Winter Soldier anymore either.” He sniffles a little, and Steve impulsively reaches up to wipe away a few stray tears from his face Bucky squirms, and he pulls his hand away quickly.

“You are whoever you wanna be, Buck,” he says.

“I don’t know what I want,” Bucky whines. “I want… I want to know what to do.” Steve doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods helplessly. “I want to not be scared. Or confused. Or lost. I wanna remember things and… and…” He wriggles back into the blankets a little and peers up at Steve. “I wanna be your friend. So bad. But then I always feel like you know what I’m supposed to be like and I… I don’t.”

“You’re not supposed to be like anything,” Steve sighs. “And no matter what, you are Bucky Barnes. And you decide what that means. Who that is.” He smiles, pulling Bucky’s hair from his face. “And no matter what, I’m gonna be your friend. If that’s what you want, then…”

“I’m with you to the end of the line?” Bucky croaks.

“Yeah. I’m with you to the end of the line,” Steve repeats, smiling. “And I am sorry. I know this is hard for you. For both of us. I should have been more careful.”

“I’m sorry I panicked.”

“You had a right to.”

Bucky flails out of the blankets clumsily. “Can I… Can I sleep in your arms tonight?” he asks, shakily hopeful. “I think… when you were sick, we used to…”

“Yeah. A few times. But if that’s what you want, then sure.” He runs his hand through Bucky’s hair. The movement has Bucky freezing for a moment, but then he relaxes, sinking gently into the touch, and letting Steve pull him into his chest.

Steve laid back, letting Bucky settle into the dip of his shoulder, taking comfort in the way Bucky lets out a long breath and melts into him entirely.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mnnnn,” Bucky says, clearly complaining about something.

“What?” Steve laughs. “You’re always so demanding when you’re sleepy.”

“Say iiiitttt.”

“What?”

“You knooow.”

Steve takes a moment to think then finally realizes. “Good, Buck?”

Bucky practically purrs. “Yes.”

Steve ruffles his hair, like Bucky used to do when their positions were reversed. “Good.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict!
> 
> Given the cliffhanger, I'll try to post as soon as possible.

Once Bucky gets used to sleeping in his arms, he can’t stop. Even when he falls asleep with his back to Steve, he always ends up rolling back around and nudging his head under Steve’s arm, whether after a nightmare or just in his sleep.

It’s… well, Steve doesn’t really know how to feel about it. But he finds himself looking forward to it, sleeping on his back and waiting for Bucky to press himself to his side, ready to slide his fingers into Bucky’s hair.

He loves being close to Bucky, but mostly he just loves that it seems to calm his friend, and that the moment Steve’s hand cradles his head his breathing goes soft and steady. It’s an odd sort of happy that twists and roils in his chest. He likes that Bucky trusts him like this. He likes feeling Bucky, knowing he’s still there. He loves that Bucky can finally rest.

And yet when he lays there in the morning, gently threading Bucky’s long locks through his fingers, he can’t help but feel that he’s missing something. That something is… off.

He’s done his best to stop thinking of the old Bucky as the “real Bucky,” and yet now it still feels like he’s slipping back into that. As happy as he is, here and with his best friend clutched to his chest, safe and sleepy, there’s just a niggling feeling at the back of his head that Bucky, back in the day, probably would have laughed himself silly at the idea of sleeping like this with Steve every night.

He can’t figure out why that bothers him, though. Of all things, why would it get to him that Bucky has found something that makes him happy, something about Steve that makes him happy?

“You’re thinking so hard I can smell the cogs burning,” Bucky mumbles.

Steve smiles, rubbing his thumb behind Bucky’s ear. Bucky hums quietly and melts a little closer. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Nah.” He arches a little, yawning. “Everything alright?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Well… nothing you need to worry about.”

Bucky pushes himself up to his elbows. “Hey. I can handle it.”

He shakes his head. “Really. Just… it’s different. Sleeping like this. It’s no big deal. I’m glad it’s helping you.” 

Bucky’s eyes flicker, studying his own. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky still looks a little worried, but gives a little sound and slumps back on top of Steve. “I don’t ever want to get up.”

Steve snorts, but it seems Bucky has already dozed off again. “Like living with a cat,” Steve teases, even though Bucky doesn’t seem to hear it.

True to his word, Bucky doesn’t wake up until 2 in the afternoon. Steve has a book tucked away in the nightstand, so he doesn’t mind, but by the time Bucky wakes up, he’s much too hungry to cook. They order pizza and pack the blankets under the couch in a large mound to watch TV.

Bucky is awfully quiet the whole day. After a few hours of silence, Steve pauses the movie to put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey. You’re not still worrying about what I said, right?” he asks.

“Um,” Bucky says. “Kind of. I think… I think I’m worrying about something… else. Something I can’t really remember.”

Steve frowns, but he lets it go. “Anything I can help with?”

Bucky pulls his knees under his chin. “No. Sorry.”

That helpless feeling deep in Steve’s stomach has cropped up in his stomach again, but he just puts his arm around Bucky and holds him close.

They fall asleep again, Bucky in Steve’s lap and Steve with his head propped against the sofa, the TV quietly mumbling on.

Whatever has been lurking around between them in the morning hits around two in the morning, because suddenly Bucky just about leaps out of Steve’s lap, pushing the sofa along with him as he trips over it.

“Buck, what…” Steve begins, reaching for Bucky, but Bucky pedals away, backing up against the wall with his eyes wide.

“Stay away from me!” he cries, and Steve backs away, hands up.

“Buck, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Steve says gently, or at least he tries to say it gently through the pounding heart in his throat.

“I know, I know,” Bucky wails. “I need to stay with Sam.”

“What?” Steve says. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but the mere thought that suddenly, after days of peace and quiet, Bucky doesn’t even want to live in his apartment is like a kick in the chest. “Buck, we can work this out…”

“Stevie, please.” Bucky slides down the wall, sitting with his hands around his head, and Steve doesn’t want to argue. He wants Bucky to be ok, no matter how much it hurts him.

“Ok,” Steve says. “Ok, I’ll call him.”

He rushes to the kitchen and calls Sam as quickly as possible. He tries to speak clearly, but in the end he figures all Sam gets from it all is that Steve is freaking out because Bucky is freaking out, and… well, that’s really the heart of the situation. 

It takes him about a half an hour to drive over, and Steve can barely even manage to lead him over to Bucky.

“Hey there,” Sam says quietly. “What happened?”

“I need to stay with you,” Bucky says again. “Please.”

Sam glances at Steve. “You sure it’s not something you wanna talk about?”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently.

“Alright. You need to take anything, or you just want to head out?”

Bucky stands shakily. “Let’s go, please.”

“Ok. Car’s outside, why don’t you wait there for me? I’m just gonna talk to Steve real quick, alright?”

Bucky nods and shuffles out of the room, shooting Steve the most soul-wrenching apologetic look that Steve has ever seen.

“Hey,” Sam says, after Steve just stands there, numb for a moment. It’s the same patient, calm tone he used with Bucky. “Look, we’ll work this out, man. It’s normal for Bucky to need a little space. Who knows what set him off.”

Steve doesn’t answer. Can’t.

“He’ll be back in no time, Steve. Alright?”

Steve just blinks at him.

“You need me to get Nat or Clint over here?”

“No,” Steve croaks. Sam doesn’t seem satisfied, but he squeezes Steve’s arm firmly and leaves him to his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. I *did* update quickly.

“So you wanna talk about it now that Steve’s not here?” Sam says.

Bucky looks up at him blearily. It’s hard to register people that… well, that aren’t Steve. They all seem dream-like, like washed out copies of people that don’t really reach him. Everyone pales in comparison to Steve. That, though, Bucky suspects is a remnant of an older pain in him.

He shudders with disgust, though it might just be that he’s constantly cold without Steve’s warmth beside him.

It’s been about two days here at Sam’s, and he can’t bring himself to talk about what’s wrong. And yet… Sam just keeps giving him food, blankets, sitting beside him and waiting for him to open up.

He’ll have to talk. It’s not fair to anyone to keep this to himself, not after everything. Still, though, while he’s keeping that… that thing inside it seems less insidious.

“Steve’s worried about you. He won’t stop calling.” A fond smile flits across Sam’s face, but after a split second he’s back to concentrating on Bucky with laser focus.

“Is he ok?” Bucky manages, just to stave off the constant prodding. And… well… because he needs to know.

“He’d be a lot better if you were there with him.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Why?” 

Bucky doesn’t dare answer.

“Are you remembering your Hydra programming?”

Bucky shakes his head. No, this is a monster even deeper rooted in him. One he can’t remove, no matter how much he wants to. Something he couldn’t remove before Hydra, that couldn’t be removed by Hydra.

God, he was stupid. He should have known that anything that could kill the traces of Hydra in his mind couldn’t be anything other than an insidious poison.

“Does it have anything to do with Hydra?”

Bucky shakes his head, relieved that he doesn’t have to give a voice to his disgust at himself. Maybe Sam will figure it out. Though he doubts Sam could ever dream up such a sick thing.

“Older or newer?”

Bucky blinks at the ground, trying to bring together that one word.

“Ok, sorry,” Sam says, as though he can see Bucky struggle with the words. “Older?”

Bucky nods.

Sam breathes out a long breath, as though trying to guess what could possibly be so terrible that it could have lived past Hydra, before Hydra.

He’s not going to guess. Bucky will have to speak, or let Steve suffer without answers.

“I was in love with him,” he whispers. Suddenly a dam breaks in him, a dam that’s over 90 years old and has had the weight of the world behind it, and he’s talking as fast as he is crying. “Back when we grew up together, and now too and I didn’t notice and then he mentioned that something was off and it was ‘cause I didn’t know but I was… I was… like some sick…” He stops short. “Why are you laughing?”

Sam’s clearly caught between still bewildered and trying not to laugh and failing. 

“I’m serious,” Bucky growls.

“I know,” Sam says, trying to compose himself. “And I…” He swallows down a wheezing giggle. “I really wanna be supportive here, I really do, but I just… I forget how… how damn old you guys are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Bucky, that the only person still convinced gay people are perverts is my grandma, and we all think she’s too embarrassing to take anywhere.” Bucky gapes at him, and Sam finally manages to sober up. “Look. I get it. It used to be illegal, I’m sure you heard all kinds of stuff. But times have changed. People have noticed there’s nothing wrong with that sort of thing. It’s legal, they can get married, they can serve in parts of the army, we talk about it… Not everyone’s happy about that and gay people still go through plenty of shit, but…” He opens his hands and shrugs.

“So it’s… it’s just not a big deal?”

“Oh, it’s a big deal. People are arguing about it all the time. But a reasonable person won’t tell you it’s perverted or wrong or… anything like that. Hell, I sure won’t. I went to college.”

Bucky blinks at him.

“I’ve been with a few guys in my day,” Sam clarifies. “Wasn’t really my thing.” He leans his elbows on his knees. “Look, man, I’m not gonna say this is something easy to deal with. But after everything you two have been through… this isn’t gonna be the end. Steve needs you. And he didn’t give a damn if you were Hydra or not, I don’t think he’s gonna hate you for loving him… a little different.”

“You can’t tell him,” Bucky says desperately. “Not yet.”

“Oh, I won’t. That’s your job.” Sam smiles at him encouragingly. “All I’m saying is, don’t book it. Certainly not because of this, alright?”

Bucky hesitates, but then he nods. He feels a little warm at the sentiment, and he wonders if maybe that’s something like what friendship used to feel like.

“Can I still sleep here tonight?”

“Sure you can.”

“And can you take me home tomorrow?”

Sam nods. “Sure. You want me to call Steve and let him know you’ll be back soon?”

“Yes please.” He’s exhausted again, and he can’t help but feel annoyed at it. Who knew recovering an entire personality would be hard? he thinks to himself, smirking a little at the thought.

Sam ruffles his hair a little on his way to the living room, and after Bucky flinches automatically, he feels a little bit of weight settle off his chest. “Get some sleep, man,” Sam calls back from the door. “I know you’ve been worrying yourself sick, and that’s bound to take a lot out of you. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Thank you,” Bucky calls after him. He lays back into the three pillow Sam gave him, but he stays awake to listen to Sam call Steve. He can hear the amusement in his voice, the calming reactions to Steve’s panic and relief, and it lulls him into sleep.

Maybe Sam’s right. Maybe Steve will be ok with this. Bucky feels something flutter in his chest that he hasn’t felt since…

… since…

… ah, right. Since the first grade, when Suzy asked Steve to hold her hand after school, and Steve responded that he was going to be too busy walking home with Bucky. Yeah. 

Bucky grins to himself. Yeah, take that Suzy. 

His last thought before he falls asleep is how it would feel to hold Steve’s big, warm hands.


	7. Chapter 7

When Steve goes to get Bucky, Bucky refuses to wake up. Steve looks at him nestled in between five pillows, and giggles a little. Bucky blinks one eye open at him, then turns around and drives himself further into the pillows. Steve smiles and goes back into the kitchen to talk to Sam.

He feels queasy again when he sees Sam, but Sam smiles at him gently. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Steve replies, though he can see from Sam’s eyebrow raise that he said it too quickly. “We’re managing. At least… we were.”

“Hey. Trust me. It wasn’t a big deal. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s up to it. He’s doing fine.” Sam snorts a little and shakes his head. “Man, he sure can sleep, though.”

“You think it’s a problem?” Steve asks.

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. Long term, I’d worry this much sleep was a sign of depression. As is, I think it’s normal. From the files I’ve read, Hydra didn’t exactly allow him a lot of sleep. I’m sure it’s a way he’s taking back his agency. And I’m sure working through his trauma is pretty damn exhausting.” 

Steve nods.

“Look, for the time being, take him home, take care of each other… A little while longer and we’ll look into some long term therapy. Hell, maybe for the both of you. Surprised S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t recommend it for you earlier.”

Steve looks down at his hands. Ever since Bucky popped up, he’s surprised too. He didn’t realize how deeply losing Bucky had affected him until finding Bucky again affected him even more. And… in a way, how much losing his familiar world had affected him until… well, Bucky brought it back to him.

“Anyway. Take a breather. Bucky’s fine, you’re fine. No aliens, no robots… knock on wood… just enjoy your… I don’t know what you do in your free time.”

“Watch TV, mostly.”

“Seriously?”

Steve grins at Sam’s incredulous face. “Yeah. It’s interesting. And Netflix… super useful.”

“Man, that shit’s bad for you. Get some real hobbies. Didn’t you have hobbies in the dark ages?”

“Well… I’m thinking of building our whole apartment into a pillow fort for Bucky,” Steve snarks back.

“Man, that’d be 7th heaven for that guy…” Sam says shaking his head. “Anyway. Go on. Take him home. And start calling me and Nat more often. She won’t say it, but she’s worried about you too.”

“I thought she was still upset about Bruce.”

“Pff,” Sam scoffs. “Pissed at him being a baby, maybe. You better give that woman more credit. She’s on top of all your asses.”

Steve wants to ask how Sam knows what goes on in Natasha’s mind, but he gets a sudden mental image of Sam and Nat drinking tea on Sundays, and the image is too funny to lose. Still on the verge of laughing, he nods and hauls himself up to get Bucky.

-X-

Bucky sleeps through the car ride home, then nearly sleeps through diner, and falls asleep on the other side of the couch when they watch a movie before bed. Steve tries not to think too much of it.

“Hey,” Steve says, gently tugging on Bucky’s foot. At this point, it’s the only touch that Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch at, but he wakes up slowly, crossing his arms. “Do you… are you…?” Steve trails off, suddenly realizing maybe he shouldn’t pressure Bucky into sleeping with him again, since that was what set him off.

“Um. Yeah,” Bucky stutters, looking a little sheepish. “It’s… ok if I stay on the other side of the bed, though, right? Until… until I want to talk about it?”

“Sure,” Steve rushes to say. He’s just relieved Bucky will still be sleeping near him… last night he hadn’t slept a wink without him.

They shower and shuffle into bed and Steve’s almost asleep when he hears Bucky mutter “shit,” into the dark.

“What?” he says, turning around. 

Bucky is staring at the ceiling, arms crossed and looking… just vaguely annoyed. “I’ve actually slept enough and now I’m not tired,” he whines.

Steve can’t help it. He starts laughing. Bucky scowls at him, and it just makes Steve laugh harder. “Stop iiiit,” Bucky whines, giving a tiny little kick into the sheets that has Steve crying and clutching at his ribs. “You’re a terrible friend, ya little punk.”

“You’re… ridiculous… jerk,” Steve wheezes. At this point, Bucky is laughing too, though he’s trying to hide it.

Eventually, they both end up crying with laughter, and later gasping, watching each other calm down and bursting into newer fits of giggles because of it.

“I missed you,” Steve whispers once he manages to catch his breath.

“I was gone for a day,” Bucky teases.

“No, I mean… always. Whenever you’re not here… I miss you.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, then manages a quiet, “Me too.”

“The other day,” Steve asks, afraid to know but needing to. “Was it something I did?”

Bucky hesitates. “No.”

“Buck… If I do something wrong for you… I want to know.”

“Nah,” Bucky says with a genuine smile. “Nah, you didn’t do anything wrong. And… I guess… I guess I didn’t either.”

“Of course not,” Steve says.

Bucky shrugs. “Things just… got kinda… mixed up, I guess. I’ll tell you about it, I promise.”

“You don’t have to.”

An unrecognizable look flits over Bucky’s face, and it sends butterflies through his stomach. He can’t quite tell whether they’re good butterflies or bad butterflies, but God, he’d give just about anything to know what that look is. “I want to,” Bucky breathes, and Steve feels like he’s been left out of some monumental moment that he wants desperately to be a part of.

“Ok,” he responds. He doesn’t want Bucky to think he’s not willing to hear anything he has to say.

“We should sleep,” Bucky says. “I might be able to pass as a creature of the night but, well… with your tights I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Ha, ha. They’re not tights anymore. Good night,” he turns around with a huff that’s just theatrical enough, and he hears Bucky snickering behind him, all the way until he falls asleep.

-X-

He wakes up to the smell of eggs. It’s slightly odd, but he takes his time walking into the kitchen anyway. Bucky is making breakfast, sitting on the counter with his laptop.

“Did you sleep?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods, sliding the pan away from the heat. “Enough. But I woke up earlier and figured I’d start pulling my weight.” He shows Steve the pan, which contains a beautiful omlette. “I tried to make it all fancy, since you always cook nice stuff.” He looks up at Steve, worrying at his bottom lip and flashing him a set of puppydog eyes.

“It looks great, Buck,” Steve says earnestly.

“Hold on,” Bucky says, beaming and setting down the laptop and the pan and rushing to grab plates. “Lemme set the table.”

“You don’t have to…”

“No, I want to.”

Steve blinks. “Ok. You want help?”

“No. Sit down.”

Steve does exactly that, watching Bucky as he bustles about, setting the table nicely and then sitting down beside him. 

“You’re in a good mood,” he remarks.

Bucky nods. “I was thinking,” he says quickly. “I want to go for a walk.”

“Alright. Alone, or…”

Bucky shakes his head. “With you. I just haven’t been outside a lot. I don’t even really know what New York looks like anymore.”

“Different,” Steve says on impulse.

“Well, then I guess we fit right into it,” Bucky jokes. He quickly falls back in on himself. “Um. Except… I don’t really… I’m scared it’ll be a lot?”

“We can always turn back,” Steve reminds him gently.

“Well… but… thing is…” Bucky shifts nervously in his chair, then slides a little closer. “When I used to go out as the Soldier, I… there was always a mission. So I could just ignore everything else.” He pauses, then corrects himself. “Had to. So if I could just… if I could just focus on something when it gets… y’know…”

“Buck, if you need something, just ask.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, then says. “Would it be ok if I… if I held your hand?”

Steve frowns. It seems like a loaded question somehow. Like Bucky’s testing the waters again, trying to nudge him into something, and he can’t tell what. He decides to be daring. “Buck, is this about something… more important?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky says nervously.

“I mean, I feel like you’re asking something… bigger than whether you can hold my hand.”

Bucky goes blank suddenly. “I just thought it’d be something to hold on to. If you don’t want to…” He makes to leave the kitchen.

Steve takes a breath and prays to God he’s making the right call. He grabs Bucky’s arm, wrapping his fingers around his wrist softly, but definitively. He knows Bucky could get out of the hold with barely a twitch, but he freezes like Steve’s put him in handcuffs.

“Now Buck. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me. Now I want you to tell me if there’s something going on here, nice and honest, or we’re sorting S.H.I.E.L.D. files this afternoon instead of that walk.”

Bucky blinks at him. “Do I have to tell you what’s going on?” he asks, almost timid.

“No.”

“Then yeah. There’s… there’s a bigger question.”

Steve nods. “And you don’t want to ask me?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“I won’t be mad. But I don’t want to hurt you, and it’s hard when I don’t know what I’m answering. You understand that, right?”

“It’s ok,” Bucky assures him. “But… I don’t want to explain right now.”

Steve nods. “Alright. Well. I don’t mind if you hold my hand. You can hold the whole time if you want.”

“Really?” Bucky asks, looking entirely blown away.

“If that’s what you need.”

“What if someone thinks we’re a couple of queers?”

Steve shrugs. “It’s legal now. Shouldn’t be anyone’s business but our own. And they don’t call themselves queers anymore, Buck,” he chides.

Bucky gives him the same look he’s seen a few times today, but Steve decides not to push anymore. “When do you want to go?”

“Now?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“Alright. Get your jacket.”

Bucky skitters off, and Steve snorts after him.

It’s a nice day, if a little chilly, and Bucky looks happy about it, even though he stops at the doorstep, vibrating with nerves. Steve holds out his hand to him, and he takes it with trembling fingers. They make it down the street before an older lady gives them a disapproving glare. Steve’s suddenly caught by an urge to mess with her, so he puts his arm around Bucky and kisses him on the check quickly. Bucky freezes, almost falling over with the movement. The old lady hurries away, mortified.

“Sorry,” Steve says, taking Bucky’s hand again. “I’ve been watching the news. It’s a damn shame, how some people are about that sort of thing.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong? Y’know, offending God?”

Steve scoffs. “I think God’s got better things to worry about than two blokes loving each other. And even if it bothers God, it’s no place in the government. I’m glad they made it legal. And they can marry now too.”

Bucky shuffles his feet. “Oh,” he mutters.

Steve tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable. “They’re just bullies, and I can’t abide by that.”

Bucky smiles at that. “Yeah. I remember.” He takes a deep breath. “Let’s walk to Central Park.”

“Alright,” Steve says, grinning. “Let’s.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to stretch this out, but... eh, it was high time for this to happen.

They’ve walked down to one of the little cafés they’ve come to love on their strolls when Bucky finally manages to tell him.

“Steve?” he asks quietly.

Steve mumbles to let him know he’s paying attention, and continues with his sketch. When Bucky stays quiet, he looks up at him. Bucky is clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, panic already twisting in his gut.

“Um. Remember when I said there was a bigger question in the hand holding?” Bucky says, all but under his breath.

“Yeah?” Steve replies softly. Bucky relaxes a little bit.

“Um.” He wriggles a bit further down in his seat. “I… well, I did need something to hold on to. But I also wanted to know how you… and everyone else would react. You know, with the… the homosexual thing.”

Steve frowns. He’s lost any inkling of what’s going on. Lately, it seems Bucky is fine both with taking his hand when he needs it and letting it go when he needs that. No one’s really given them a second thought, aside from a few mean glances, and Steve can’t imagine why Bucky would be bringing this up now. “Did I pass the test?” he tries joking. 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, releasing his death grip on his mug. “Steve…” He lets out a long breath, fidgeting. “I might… I am… definitely gay.”

Steve makes the connection quickly, and if the situation were a little different, Steve would cuff his friend upside the head. As is, he’s still contemplating throttling him, but he reigns that in. “Is this why you ran off to Sam’s a few weeks ago?”

Bucky has the decency to look sheepish. “Yes.”

Steve starts laughing. “Buck… you scared the shit out of me.”

“I know,” Bucky whines. “Sam laughed at me too.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Steve says, still laughing. Bucky just glares at him. “But after everything we’ve been through you thought I was going to have a problem with… with this?”

“That’s what Sam said,” Bucky replies miserably. “I’m sorry. I just… I felt like a pervert. Sleeping with you and all. I got scared I was sick in the head. Using you.”

“Buck, when we starting living together, I was still wishing for you to be a different person so I could feel better. If anyone was using anyone, it was me.”

Bucky snorts. “Sure, Steve.” He sighs. “Anyway, Sam told me it wasn’t a big deal, but I wanted to know what you thought about it.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s the girls you should be worried about. You’ll be disappointing a few in the nursing homes…” He grins at his friend, who rolls his eyes and kicks him under the table. “And if you wanna start sleeping together like before, that’s fine. Trust me, I know just because you could be interested, doesn’t mean you are.”

Bucky gives him a funny look, but then says, “Right.” He smiles. “Right. No, um… thanks.”

“Don’t tell Nat yet, she’ll start trying to hook you up with people,” he adds. 

Bucky looks into his cup, looking a little queasy. “Yeah, I’m not ready for that,” he mumbles.

“Hey,” Steve assures him. “We’ll get there.”

Bucky doesn’t look much happier for the assurance, rubbing at his shoulder above the metal arm absently.

-X-

That night, Bucky does curl up in his arms, but he’s tense and jumpy. “Buck, if you’re not comfortable you don’t have to sleep here,” Steve reminds him, and he barely gets it out of his mouth before Bucky jumps up and blurts, “I’m still not being totally honest.”

Steve blinks at him. “Ok. You don’t have to be.”

“No, I do,” Bucky says, and his hand wanders back to his shoulder as he sits back onto his feet.

“Ok,” Steve says slowly. 

Bucky kneads at his shoulder nervously. “I am.”

Steve tries to go over their previous conversations, but draws a blank. “You are… what?”

“Interested.”

Steve stares at him for a long time before it clicks. “In me?”

“Yeah, you, you big ass,” Bucky huffs. “I’ve… I’ve been in love with you since I met you, Steve. No one else could hold a candle to you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say, but it seems like now that Bucky’s started, he can’t stop.

“I used to take you along on all those dates, remember? And I’d just keep looking at you, watching where you are… I didn’t give a damn about those girls, not once.”

Steve wants to say something, he really does, but there’s too much and too little, so he just lets Bucky keep going. 

“And the guys in the army, they kept asking about girls back home, and I’d tell ‘em she was an artist and a little spitfire, and she had the bluest eyes and then they’d ask if I had a picture and I did, all the time, burning a hole in my pocket, but I couldn’t show anyone, so I’d look at it when I was scared, and…”

He finally trails off, leaving them both surrounded by the silence of the night.

“Say something, Stevie,” Bucky whimpers after a while.

“I can’t,” Steve manages. “I never noticed. I’ve never thought about this, and I’m scared to rush into any reaction. I can’t risk messing anything up with you.”

Bucky is silent for a while. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Please don’t be,” Steve says, laying a hand on Bucky’s cheek. Bucky seems torn between pulling away and leaning into it. “I just need to think. Just for a little while, I promise.”

“Ok,” Bucky says, though he still sounds heartbroken. “Maybe I’ll just sleep on the sofa.”

“No,” Steve cuts in quickly. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the sofa. You’ve done nothing wrong, you should get a good night’s rest.”

He half hopes Bucky will say no, it’s ok, stay with me, but Bucky just nods slowly. They say their goodnights, and Steve drags himself into the living room. He doesn’t even manage to lay down, just sits down and stares into the dark, trying to make sense of his own thoughts as they scramble around in his head.

He hasn’t slept a wink when Bucky shuffles out of the bedroom in the early hours. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks automatically, before noticing Bucky’s face.

Even in the twilight darkness, he can see that Bucky is verging on green, with tear tracks down his face and his right hand clamped over the flesh just above his metal arm. 

“Something’s wrong,” he gasps, and Steve can just catch him as he stumbles.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” he says, looking over Bucky for some kind of sign.

“My arm,” Bucky whimpers, the sentence rolling into sobs. “It hurts.”

“The metal one?”

Bucky nods desperately, making a quiet keening sound in the back of his throat that seems to have taken a hold of Steve’s insides and is twisting as they speak. 

Steve scrambles for the phone, ready to call Sam to ask for the nearest hospital that would take Bucky, but he stops with his finger on the call button.

He scrolls down in his phonebook, and then makes the hardest phone call of his life.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost tried to make this a fight between Tony and Steve but I love them both dearly and I'm scared of Civil War.

Tony shows up less than 20 minutes later, Helen in tow. 

“Thank you for coming,” Steve says, and it feels so very inadequate, but Tony gestures as though not even that much was needed. Still, there’s a vague unease between them, as though they’re both still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How is he?” Tony asks.

Bucky is curled into his lap, his finger digging into Steve’s leg, taking quick gasps of breath in an attempt to keep it steady.

“Not good,” Steve says. 

Tony kneels down to take a good look. “Turn him around for me, Cap,” Tony says, unwilling to go much nearer to Bucky than he already is. “Pull his hair up and stick this there for me.” He hands Steve a wire attached to a small hand-held device. Steve pushes the wire to the base of Bucky’s skull, and after a little wriggling, Tony’s device beeps. Bucky sniffles into his thigh.

“Ok. Now I should be able to get a rough read on the circuitry from that.” After a while, Tony frowns. “Nothing’s broken.”

“Tony, look at him, he’s…” Steve starts to shout.

“No, I mean nothing has malfunctioned. His arm is designed this way.” Tony looks up at Steve, and his expression changes from confused, to horrified, to apologetic in a second.

“He’s cold,” Steve says, not ready to unleash the mounds of emotions heaped in this room.

“He’s going into shock,” Helen says, almost ducking down towards Bucky before his arm flashes out, almost hitting her. 

Steve grabs his arm, holding him tight. “Bucky, calm down. We’re trying to help.”

Bucky twists his head up, locking eyes with Tony and growling a little, making a feeble attempt to kick his way out of Steve’s hold.

“Hey there big guy,” Tony says calmly, shuffling a little closer. From one second to the next, he seems to have gotten a great deal less apprehensive. “I know we had a rough start, but we’re all friends here now, alright?”

“Bucky. Trust me. We’re going to fix this.”

Bucky kicks at the sofa one more time, but goes limp in his arms.

“We need to sedate him,” Helen says. Bucky moans and shakes his head, but Steve shushes him and strokes his hair gently. “The pain is already sending him into shock, there’s no way we can remedy it fast enough.”

“Please, Steve, no,” Bucky pleads. “It’s ok, I can take it.”

Steve wants to listen to him, but he can feel Bucky shivering, and he knows Helen’s right. “Buck, listen, I’ll be right here, ok? I won’t leave you alone for one second, but we gotta put you out, alright?”

“Please, Stevie. I don’t wanna!” Bucky gives another feeble kick.

“I know. But it’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

“Ok,” Bucky sniffles. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t.” Steve nods at Helen, who steps up with a syringe and efficiently finds a vein for it on Bucky’s right arm. 

“I’m scared,” Bucky whispers.

“It’ll barely pinch,” Helen says gently, her hands steady. “I would know, I’m a baby around needles.”

Bucky actually chuckles, then flinches as she presses the needle in. Still, he relaxes as Steve’s arm tightens around him. His lurching breaths grow slower, then steadier, and then his arm drops a little and Steve can tell he’s out cold. 

“Can you fix this?” he asks Tony.

“Of course. It’s probably a malfunction in the circuitry connecting the arm to his brain. It’s forties technology, how hard can it be?”

“Thank you,” Steve says.

“Don’t start crying on me, Cap,” Tony warns, but he looks ready to deal with it if Steve does.

“I’ll do my best,” Steve quips, though he certainly can’t make any promises. It’s as good to see Tony as it is scary to see Bucky like this, and Steve just feels like the entire world has swirled into a big mess of emotions.

“Hey,” Tony says, grabbing his shoulder before Steve notices he has started crying. “Come on. I’ve got a car waiting outside. The windows are tinted, you can cry all you want.”

Steve nods, and he and Tony carry Bucky down to the car together.

“Nice to see you again,” Happy says, as they get in the car. Steve nods, unable to speak.

Once they’re settled in the car, Helen sitting up front and the partition pulled up, Tony sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?”

“About everything. I saw the file about my parents, and I… figured Bucky was the one they sent to kill them. I wanted him to pay for what Hydra did. And I think that might have blinded me a little. A lot. I overreacted.”

“So did I. I went off the deep end there, for a while.”

“Yeah, well… I’ve read through the Winter Soldier files, but… now that I’ve seen it… I should have known that Bucky isn’t…” Tony looks out the window.

“Isn’t what?”

“He isn’t Ultron,” Tony finishes.

Steve frowns at Tony. “It wasn’t your fault. You were right. We have a responsibility. We should get carried away, or things like Ultron can happen. To all of us.”

“Hm,” Tony says, without looking at him, and Steve can tell he hasn’t taken it to heart. “Anyway. How are you? Present circumstances not included, of course.”

Steve pauses. “I… we’re… we were good,” he replies. 

“And then the arm cut in,” Tony says with a playful tut.

“Actually… I think first I was an idiot,” Steve admits.

“Well. That sounds a lot more interesting. I never tire of hearing you insult yourself. Do go on.” Tony crosses his legs and gives him a teasing little look, as though absolutely sure he just succeeded in being unquestionably hilarious.

Steve shakes his head. “Fine. Bucky said he’s been in love with me since we were kids, and I told him I need to think about it.”

“Think about what? Your feelings? Honeymoon destinations? Polite rejections?”

Steve shakes his head again. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this,” he sighs. “Of all people.”

“Hey, I’m in a steady relationship. Only one in our social circle.”

“Clint’s married.”

“Ah. That was odd. I’m not ready to accept it yet.”

“Thor has Jane.”

“Psh. How often does he see her? That’s not off the ground yet.”

Steve raises his eyebrow. “Yeah, you’re a great source of relationship advice.”

“What? I am. Besides, you could use a bisexual perspective.”

That surprises Steve. “You’re bisexual?”

Tony scoffs. “Of course I’m bisexual. Matter of fact, you were one of my first man-crushes.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. My dad talked you up, would’ve never happened if I knew you. Now answer the question. What’s on your mind?”

Steve blinks a few times, weaving his hands into Bucky’s hair. There’s still a faint grimace on Bucky’s face. He still can’t believe he’s saying this to Tony first, but he was too scared to say it to Bucky last night and now he’s got to get it out to someone. Especially given the circumstances. “That I can’t live without him, mostly.”

“So what else is there to think about?”

“Well… what if it’s not a romantic feeling? What if I’m just scared of losing him, so I want to tell him I feel the same way, but… but then I don’t? He’s known since we were kids, and I never once thought about it that way.”

“You know,” Tony says, and he doesn’t seem to be going for a one-liner for once. “I didn’t have feelings for Pepper until I got back from the desert. Out there, the most I thought of her was that she’d probably do a better job of dealing with terrorists than me, and still have time to bring me a damn cheeseburger. God, I wanted a cheeseburger out there.” Steve snorts. “But then I got off that plane and I saw her there and I knew life wouldn’t mean a thing without that woman, and I hadn’t fought that hard for nothing. I needed her. Needed her more than fifteen cheeseburgers.”

“I’m sure she’d find that really touching, Tony,” Steve quips, but he knows what Tony means.

“Don’t ever tell her I said that.”

Steve laughs.

“My point is, love doesn’t have a rule book or an incubation time or a system of indicators. So your buddy here has been in love with you for ninety years, and you didn’t catch up until now. You’ve got a thick head, but luckily… your heart’s inside it.”

“Inside my head?”

“Well, your figurative heart is in your brain, not your literal heart.”

“Right.” Steve is grinning. “I missed you, Tony.”

Tony blinks at him, taken off guard. “I missed you too, Capsicle.” He looks down at Bucky. “We’ll pull your boyfriend back together in no time.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - dicks ahead.

Bucky wakes up with his head feeling fuzzy. He panics at first, unable to get his bearings. “Hey there,” Steve’s voice says, sifting through the mist, and Bucky collapses back into the bed, knowing things are ok if he’s with Steve.

“Wt hpd?” he slurs.

“Tony’s been working on your arm all night,” Steve says gently.

“My arm?” Bucky says, consciousness slowly returning. He goes cold when he tries to feel for it. “I can’t move it.”

“Sorry,” Tony says, suddenly appearing above him. Bucky recoils. The last he remembers clearly of Tony is Tony fracturing one of his ribs in a fist fight. He looks around for Steve. Steve won’t let him get hurt.

Steve is already sitting beside him, holding the metal arm gently. “Tony put in a kill switch for your arm so we can test it.”

“Test it?” Bucky asks.

“It seems Hydra built in a failsafe in your arm. Without regular tune-ups from them, it activated, and would have sent you into shock if we hadn’t shut it off in time. I took it out while you were sleeping, but unfortunately that meant I had to redo a lot of the circuitry, and we will have to make sure everything works. I put in the kill switch so we can cut the power if something malfunctions. Once things are working, I’ll close it permanently and Helen will embed it under your skin.” He gestures to Bucky’s neck. “May I?”

Bucky hesitates, but Steve nods, so he does too. 

Tony flicks something on the back of his neck, and the arm whirs to life. Bucky wriggles his fingers, then closes them around Steve’s hand. Steve smiles at him encouragingly. “Come on, Buck, sit up and we’ll let Tony do his thing.”

Bucky glares at Tony for good measure, but sits up, worming under Steve’s arm, and offers him his metal arm. 

“Ok. We want to check as many angles as possible, to make sure you’ve got full mobility. Tell me if anything hurts, alright? It’s not a toughness question, we want everything to work right.”

Bucky nods, and Tony sets about twisting his arm around in weird positions. When it’s full stretched out to the side, it twinges, so he just says, “Ow.”

“How bad?” Tony asks, flipping the switch off. 

“Just a little poking. Like a pinprick.”

“Huh,” Tony says, shining a small light in between the crack of his arm. “You’re right, there’s a little wire loose in there.” He slides one of the panels out and secures the wire. “Good job. Most people ignore me when I say it’s not a toughness question.”

Bucky can’t help but feel a spike of pride at the praise. He can tell Steve is happy about it too, and it makes him want to be friends with Tony, if only for Steve’s sake.

“Alright. Mobility is fine, checking pressure sensitivity,” Tony mutters tapping at a small tablet. He pulls on the gauntlet of the Iron Man suit. Bucky flinches instinctively, but Steve’s hand on his back radiates cool calmness. Tony extends the gauntleted hand. “How about a handshake. Firm, but not enough that you’d crush my hand without this, alright?”

Bucky tries his best, but he leaves a few long scratches on the gauntlet with the force. “Sorry,” he says quickly.

“Not your fault, it’s mine,” Tony says, and fiddles with the arm another few moments. “Ok, again.”

This time, the handshake goes better, and Tony seems to be reading off a pressure value with the gauntlet. He nods. “Alright. How about we call this a new start, huh?” He extents his other hand. “Sorry about the rough beginnings.” Bucky takes the offered hand and shakes it, feeling a little awkward. 

“Wonderful. Lemme just fix this switch, and then Helen will do the rest.” He reaches behind Bucky for a moment, and he can see what’s happening, but he can tell Steve’s watching, and that’s enough. There’s the small smell of something burning, and then Tony claps him on the back lightly. “Let’s go.”

-X-

Helen’s skin printing doesn’t hurt a bit, but between that and having dinner with Tony, Helen and Pepper, he finds himself entirely exhausted by the time they finally get to one of the guest rooms. 

Pepper brings him a large extra pillow, and Bucky realizes she’s the first person outside of Steve that he likes without really needing anything from her. At first she spoke too softly to him, as though he was a child, but she caught on quickly that it was bothering him, and shifted gears to keep up. He considers asking her for her number, because he gets the feeling he should be making friends outside of Steve by now, but as soon as she hands him the pillow and shows him the room he’s sharing with Steve, he doesn’t want to see anyone but Steve for about a week.

Steve is sitting on the bed, looking jumpy. “What’s with you?” Bucky asks.

“Your arm interrupted a conversation we were going to have.”

“I thought you wanted to think about it,” Bucky gripes. He wants to sleep, and he’s cross that Steve’s not going to let him do it before giving him the let down speech to end all let down speeches.

“I have thought about it.”

“Great,” Bucky grumbles. “We can sleep on it, and then talk.”

“We can talk later,” Steve agrees, and Bucky tries to sink to the bed in relief, but Steve catches him. “I want to do this right.”

Bucky’s heart is throbbing in his chest, but he doesn’t have time to ask what Steve means, because Steve is kissing him.

Steve.

Rogers.

Is.

Kissing.

Him.

Bucky’s brain has just blown a fuse by the time Steve pulls away. “There wasn’t much thinking to do,” Steve clarifies.

Bucky has quite literally forgotten what thought is.

“I should have known I felt the same way the second you said it.” Steve grins in a way that makes the last few brain cells left in Bucky’s skull to fizzle out as all his blood heads to his dick. Steve’s hands slide down to his waist, leaving him to flounder, unsure of which part of Steve to grip for dear life. “Actually, I should have known when you wouldn’t stop talking about that Angelica girl who took your virginity.”

“I made her up,” Bucky says queasily.

“Oh, I know,” Steve whispers, pulling him up effortlessly and dropping him on the bed. “But I kept thinking about it. About what it’d be like to have a beautiful dame showing you the ropes the way you said. ‘Cept I kept think about how she’d have done it with you, ‘cause you were so much more handsome than me.”

“Was not,” Bucky protests, but Steve is suddenly wrapped around him, everywhere, his lips on Bucky’s lips and Jesus, Bucky wants to go back in time and tell himself at fifteen that someday Steve’d be big enough to wrap him up everywhere in that warm, familiar smell…

“Am I dreaming?” Bucky whispers when Steve pulls away again, because honestly, that’s the only explanation. 

Steve grins and bites his shoulder. Bucky yelps, and glares at him. “Oh, sorry, I’m supposed to pinch you,” he says, and gives Bucky’s ass a quick, sharp pinch.

“Fuck you,” Bucky grumbles.

“Maybe later,” Steve teases, and Bucky’s brain has abandoned him again. He whimpers, hips canting up into Steve’s where he’s straddling him.

“Well. You’re eager. I haven’t even started yet.”

“Started what?”

“Telling you what I thought about. When I thought of Angelica. And the things she’d do to you.”

“You gonna show me the ropes, Stevie?”

“Well,” Steve laughs. “I may not have a lot of experience, but I’ve got plenty of imagination.” He hammers his point in by lowering his mouth to the crook of Bucky’s neck and sucking hard, then brushing Bucky’s hair aside to run his lips and his tongue up the side of it. He pulls Bucky’s earlobe into his mouth and bites so gently it doesn’t even hurt, just tiny little nibbles that send shivers down Bucky’s spine.

Within seconds, Bucky’s entirely immobilized with want, his legs shaking and his toes curling, his head twisted to the side and shuddering with pants. At this rate, he’s gonna come in his pants and he’ll never hear the end of it. He brings his hand up to Steve’s dick to try to speed things up, but though Steve is very hard, the added friction of Bucky’s hand doesn’t seem to affect Steve at all. Bucky has a feeling the same wouldn’t be true the other way around.

“Stupid serum,” he whispers.

Steve grins against his neck. “Can’t keep up?” he asks, gently cupping Bucky’s dick with his hand. Bucky almost squeals, back arching as soon as Steve’s big hand slides down the shaft. 

“Steve, I’m gonna…” He doesn’t even finish before Steve’s hand is gone, stroking up the side of his chest, under his shirt, then the other is starting the other up the other side. Bucky shudders, digging his fingers into Steve’s thighs. God, he’s so hot.

Steve pulls Bucky’s shirt over his head and starts kissing down the center of his chest. Bucky wants to record this moment and send it to every Hydra member who made sure he didn’t have any pleasure as the Soldier, just to watch them all have an aneurysm from how badly they’ve failed. He giggles at the thought a little, because quite frankly this entire situation is impossible.

Steve’s eyes flick up. “What’s funny?” he breathes into Bucky’s chest, the puffs of air reverberating through his whole body.

“You’re here. Kissing me. I never… I thought…” He stops quickly before he cries, and Steve sits up a little to gently kiss all over his face, making gentle shushing noises. Bucky gasps in a few breaths and pulls himself together enough to say, “We can keep going now.” 

Steve kisses him, long and slow, and then lowers himself back down to Bucky’s chest. “Sure?”

Bucky nods frantically.

“Good. Because I still wanted to show you how I imagined you’d play with ‘Angelica’s’ breasts.” Bucky’s fingers curl, and he thinks for a moment Steve’s going to pull his own hands up to play with Steve’s chest, but he doesn’t do anything. He trusts Steve. Steve knows where this is going, and he’s going to take care of Bucky. It’s so incredibly relieving, and touching, and a tad overwhelming.

But Steve leaves Bucky’s hands where they are, and instead brings his hands up to tweak Bucky’s nipples. It’s a slightly underwhelming experience in comparison to everything else going on, but Bucky figures he’ll let Steve have a little room for his own fantasies.

Steve just keeps kneading his nipples with his thumbs, and after a while they get more sensitive, and Bucky’s starting to think maybe it’s not just Steve’s fantasy. Steve lowers his mouth to one of the nipples, and it’s wet and hot and holy shit this is Bucky’s fantasy now. He moans, trying to grab Steve’s head and somehow push him even closer, but Steve just pulls his mouth away and keeps toying with his thumb. Bucky whines, but before he can even voice his frustration, Steve’s mouth is on his other nipple.

Bucky can feel the laugh rumbling through Steve’s chest, but he’s too far gone to tell him to go fuck himself. 

Steve switches nipples again, and Bucky groans. “Shit, Stevie, I’ll come in my pants.”

“Prove it,” Steve teases, dropping his hands down towards Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s heart skips a beat, but Steve bypasses his cock and strokes his inner thighs, still alternating his mouth between nipples. Now while one nipple is hot and stimulated, the other is cold, making the entire process even more excruciating.

Bucky’s entire vocabulary has just narrowed down to “Stevie, Stevie, shit, Stevie,” and he can’t stop moaning it over and over again.

And then true to his word, he works his way right past his tipping point in a steady, pulsing wave, twists his hands in Steve’s hair and writhes his way through the best orgasm of his life.

It takes him a little while to regain some semblance of rational thought. “You came around quick.”

Now that he’s not tormenting Bucky with pleasure, Steve seems less sure of himself. “You seemed tense. And I thought after chickening out earlier… maybe I should show, not tell.”

“I’m not complaining.” A tired little thought flashes through his head. “Oh, shit. Steve. You haven’t…”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s clean you up.” 

Bucky wants to protest, but Steve kisses him, and suddenly he’s about as able to say no as a slice of melted cheese.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I separated the smut from this story. There might still be some, but I felt like what I wanted to do smutwise didn't fit well with the fluffiness of this story. It's "Love Within Love," feel free to check it out if that's your thing.

Pepper knows.

Steve can’t figure out how she knows, but when they come out for breakfast, Pepper gives them a long look and then raises her eyebrows. Helen’s gone home, and Steve figures after their earlier conversation, Tony won’t be too mortified about them, so he decides to be as affectionate with Bucky as he wants.

Bucky is thrilled. He’s obviously trying to make a good impression on Pepper, who he seems to like, so he’s half swave and half menacing, as though during his time as the Soldier he’s forgotten how people want him to act. Still, every time Steve so much as ruffles his hair, he derails entirely and collapses back into Steve. Steve ends up having to stay draped around Bucky’s shoulders while Bucky explains to Pepper how dating went in the 40s in great detail, and she tries to tell him what’s changed.

“Good morning,” Tony says, sliding into the kitchen and straight to the coffee machine. He and Bucky give each other slightly wary glances. “How are we this morning?”

“Oh, I think they’re fine,” Pepper says, smirking.

Tony blinks at them, and then gives a small huh. “See? Told you I give good relationship advice.” He points at Bucky, who startles at the gesture. “I gave him a pep talk while you were out cold, Barnes. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, shut up, Tony,” Pepper says, not missing a beat.“Not everything that you graciously looked upon is successful purely because of you.” She shakes her head. “Ignore him, he’s got enough ego for five men,” she tells Bucky.

Steve snorts. He’s never spent much time with Pepper, but he’s starting to regret it.

“Well, fine. How’s your arm?”

Bucky shrugs. “It’s ok.”

“I’m going to see a friend in town. If you’re ready to go home, I’ll drop you off on the way.”

Bucky looks at Pepper a little apologetically, then hopefully up at Steve. “Yeah, I think Buck’s ready to be back on his own territory.”

“Oh,” Pepper says excitedly, running away for a moment and then running back with a notepad. “I’ll give you my number so you can call me if you need anything.” She scribbles it down and then tears the page out to give it to Bucky.

“Thank you,” Bucky says, a little too quietly.

“No problem. I know it must be hard getting adjusted with everything you’ve been through. If you need a friend, let me know.”

“I will,” Bucky promises.

-X-

Steve has to admit, coming home to his own apartment does feel absurdly nice, even after just two nights. He kicks off his shoes and collapses down on the sofa. Bucky crawls on top of him, laying his head on his chest. Steve brushes his hair behind his ear, kissing him gently on the top of the head. “How about a movie?”

“Mmkay,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve knows he’ll just fall asleep, but he puts the movie on and lets Bucky doze.

At first, he’d gone into the entire thing thinking of Peggy. If kissing Bucky felt like kissing Peggy, everything was alright. He wasn’t making anything up.

But of course, kissing Bucky didn’t feel like kissing Peggy. It felt like kissing Bucky.His Bucky. If he’d learned anything since the war started, it was that his love for Bucky was something he felt to his bones. In his bones. And now it was everywhere, surrounding both of them, and it was like he’d been waiting for it for near as long as Bucky had.

He had loved Peggy. He still did, always would. But while loving Peggy felt like fire that had left warm, glowing embers, loving Bucky was as natural as breathing. As though he hadn’t noticed because it was just a part of him. Always.

“You’re thinking again,” Bucky mumbles. “And we still haven’t talked.”

“This feels right,” Steve says. “I didn’t even expect it to feel this right.”

“Me neither,” Bucky admits. “Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m not in my own skin, but now I wonder if maybe I always felt like that without you.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bucky curls his arms around Steve’s torso and squeezes hard. “We have our own bedroom. Let’s kiss all night.”

“Just kiss?” Steve teases.

“Yes please.”

Steve smiles at that, brushing Bucky’s hair aside to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Alright. Come on.” Bucky stands up and holds his hand out for Steve to take. Steve does, and he uses it to pull Bucky in and kiss him. Bucky melts into it, clinging gently to his shirt and stumbling a little when Steve brings his free hand up to cup his face.

“You certainly like that kissing.”

“I feel like you’re all around me. I feel safe,” Bucky whispers.

Steve smiles, bringing his arms around Bucky, elbows at his hips and his hands circling up to his shoulders. Bucky shivers and shuffles closer, and Steve draws him in gently as he does. “I think I can work with that,” he says softly.

“Bed?” Bucky suggests.

“Bed,” Steve agrees.

-X-

The next few days they spend huddled together, either walking around New York, curled up in bed or on the sofa. Bucky is reluctant to be anywhere but right next to Steve for more than a few moments. Even while Steve makes food, he shuffles up behind him and pushes his head into Steve’s back, slumping over him gently.

Eventually, though, duty calls. Bucky is grumpy about it, but underneath he’s still upbeat, still overjoyed about their new relationship. “Maybe I’ll see about getting you S.H.E.I.L.D clearance, huh, Buck?”

“Yeah, and then we can get you a few citations for inappropriate behavior and ruin your reputation forever,” Bucky grins.

“Well… you know. It’s not my fault everyone makes assumptions.”

Bucky snorts. “They prob’ly all think you’re a blushing virgin in bed. If only they knew the horrible truth.”

Steve pulls him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Bucky, are you saying I’m too dirty for you?”

“I’m saying my brain’s eventually gonna melt out my dick and it’ll be your fault.”

“Maybe I oughta go easier on you,” Steve whispers, his nose tickling Bucky’s.

“Don’t you dare,” Bucky whispers back, quivering slightly when Steve squeezes him tightly to his chest and kisses him.

“I’ll grab dinner on the way home. You be good.”

“Or what, you’ll take me over your knee?” Bucky goads.

Steve grins. “Now… something makes me think you wouldn’t mind that.” He kisses Bucky on the nose. Bucky goes a delightful shade of red in response.

“Come back safe,” Bucky mumbles, pulling back a little in the hopes that he might be able to hide his blush.

“I will,” Steve promises, pulling Bucky back for one more kiss for good measure.

-X-

He ends up coming back slightly bruised and singed. Turns out he’s not great at identifying bombs. Still, he’s thankful it blew up next to him, and not anyone else. He’s sore, but he’s alright. If anything, dealing with his teammates was a bigger hassle. 

Nat knows about his new relationship, though Tony swears he hasn’t told her. Halfway through the mission they get into an argument about whether Nat is bugging Steve’s apartment or Stark tower. Tony gets offended at the breach of privacy, then suddenly gasps and asks Nat if she’s been listening in on Steve and Bucky having sex, and suddenly wants to know all sorts of intimate details. At this point, it’s obvious Nat’s just put two and two together and is not bugging their apartment, and Steve doubts he actually wants details, he’s just putting on the usual show. Steve is contemplating whether he wants to tell Tony about his sex life (or rather a ridiculously exaggerated version of it designed to horrify Tony) when Thor picks up on the fact that they’ve been chatty, and brings it up on the central com-link. 

Clint immediately gasps and asks if he’s gotten together with Bucky, since Nat has been betting on it for days. Nat looks like she’s going to murder him. Clint then starts asking if Bucky’s an animal in bed and now Steve is definitely thinking of scarring them all for life with a few stories. He’s about to mention that no, Bucky is not an animal in bed, one pinch of the nipples and he’s a puddle at Steve’s feet, eager to take whatever Steve will give him, and boy does he like to give it to Bucky…

… That’s about where the bomb blows up in his face, throwing him several meters into a wall. Once he sits up and shakes it off, the team is only too happy to tease him mercilessly about how he was so distracted at the thought of his boyfriend that walked right into an explosion. Clint and Tony are the worst, though Thor is happy to join in, clapping him on the shoulder and telling him about all the injuries he’s gotten because of women (and a few men). Even Nat is smiling, though she does it subtly. Steve misses Bruce. Bruce wouldn’t have teased him. Still, Steve sighs and lets them do it. He’ll have his revenge later, preferably when Bucky’s right there to enjoy it with him.

He gets takeout and goes home still in his dirty suit, ready to collapse onto the sofa and do nothing for days. 

It’s dark when he gets home, which worries him. “Bucky?” he calls softly. He might be sleeping, though he’s been sleeping less during the day.

“In the kitchen,” Bucky calls out after a few long moments. He sounds hoarse, so Steve rushes over.

Bucky’s curled up in the corner beneath the cabinet, sniffling. He’s clearly been crying a while. “Hey,” he mutters.

“Hey,” Steve replies, settling down beside him.

“That uniform’s really sexy,” Bucky says.

Steve smiles. “Come on. What’s wrong?”

“Um,” Bucky says, sounding embarrassed. “You left and I had nothing to do, so I… I freaked out. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” He rubs the tears away with his sleeve, coughing wetly, trying to compose himself.

“Hey. None of that. Why did you freak out?”

 

“I…” He chokes a little as the tears start up again. “I didn’t have anything to do.”

Steve settles his hand on Bucky’s knee, squeezing gently to know he’s still listening, and Bucky can keep going at his own pace.

“I just… I realized I’m nothing.” Steve gives him a warning glance and Bucky ducks his head. “I’m just a big hollow shell of shit people did to me. The only thing I ever really wanted was you and I thought I wouldn’t ever have that so I just… I just let that burn out everything else and then the war and Hydra took away whatever might’a been left and now I’ve got you and… and I’m trying to think what else I wanted or liked in life and there’s nothing. There’s nothing in me, Steve, and I…” his words break off into a sob, so Steve puts his arm around him and pulls him close.

“Hey. Look. It’s hard adjusting after all you’ve been through. I did the same thing. Sam asked me what made me happy and I couldn’t tell him. And you’ve been through a lot more than me.”

“You always had something, though. The art, and then the war… you always knew what you were doing.” Bucky slumps forward, crawling halfway into Steve’s lap.

“The hell I did.” He strokes Bucky’s hair gently. “I’ve just been trying to do the right thing. The serum, getting my own team, joining the fight, those are all things people helped me with. And then you showed up, unexpectedly, and I knew that I needed to find you. But hell… I don’t know what I’m doing all the time. Hell, I walked into a bomb today.”

“What?!” Bucky cries, shooting up. “Are you ok? Why didn’t you start with…”

“It’s fine, Buck! I’m fine. Just a little bruised up.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Uh… the team was teasing me and I was thinking about how to horrify them with sexual stories.”

Bucky stares at him, mouth hanging open. “They were… Steve… you…” Steve shrugs with a sheepish smile. “I’m going to kill you!” Bucky says, leaping at him and punching him, albeit fairly gently.

“Bucky, come on, I’m fine!” Steve says, fighting back, careful not to smack Bucky’s head into the cabinets as he grabs Bucky’s wrists and wrestles him back.

“They were teasing you so you stop paying attention on a battle field?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Bucky pulls his wrists away and tries to smack Steve upside the head. Steve catches him and wrestles him to the side before Bucky manages to twist away and grab Steve’s arm, twisting it down so he can slap Steve.

“They were very annoying, Buck.”

“You idiot!” Bucky yells back.

They wrestle for a good long time, with Bucky yelling at him and Steve laughing as he does so, which makes Bucky laugh, which just makes him angrier.

Eventually, Steve manages to get Bucky on his back and kisses his neck gently, then nips at it.

“That’s cheating,” Bucky gasps, already breathless.

“Is not,” Steve whispers, coming up to kiss Bucky properly.

“Is too,” Bucky murmurs as Steve pulls away. “Punk.”

Steve smiles. “Jerk.” He brushes Bucky’s hair from his face. “We’re going to figure you out, Bucky Barnes. We’ll find you a great hobby and a great job. I’ll see about S.H.E.I.L.D. clearance. You can come with us on missions…”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, though he seems unsure.

“I promise you’re going to be ok,” Steve says.

“I trust you,” Bucky replies. “Even if you are an idiot who runs into bombs because he’s thinking of sex.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” Steve sighs, kissing Bucky as Bucky giggles and tries to shake his head.


End file.
